Apartment Complex
by fwostbites
Summary: AU. Yelling matches. Slamming doors. Pushing, poking, and frustrated screams. He was insensitive. She was annoying. Their relationship was the definition of hate. Yet somewhere along the way, the attraction became kind of, probably, definitely, completely real.
1. Yelling

Hello! First Frozen fanfic. Alskjdalsjfdoie forgive me if it's super terrible and ooc and I just

* * *

><p>"Sven!"<p>

A large, blonde-haired-brown-eyed man nearly ripped off the hinges of his apartment door in his struggle to get in. "Sven! Open the DOOR!"

As much as he _wanted_ to rip the door off, it would cost money to fix that. And why spend money when he had a perfectly good dog that always opened his door for him when he forgot his keys? He knew his dog could do it – he'd done it hundreds of times before.

"SVEN! Come here boy! GET THE DOOR!" Kristoff Bjorgman said in a shouting-puppy-dog voice and banged the door in the certain pattern (three long knocks, two short ones, one long one, and another two short ones) that usually made his Norwegian elkhound come sprinting, but he still didn't come. _Why are you doing this, boy?!_

He was tired from a long day at the rink, and all he wanted was his carrot soup and a nice hot shower.

Kristoff leaned his back against the door and slowly slid down it with a huge sigh. He waited a minute. And then another. And another. Okay, now he was getting impatient.

"SVEN!"

"Oh my God, shut UP!"

"…Huh?" Kristoff looked around to find the owner of the voice he just heard. _Female. Young. Came from… _He looked around slowly with narrowed eyes. _Came from the… north?_ He looked at the apartment across from his. _No one lives there_.

"Yes, someone _does!_" the voice came again. The door swung open furiously.

Did he say that out loud? He can't even tell anymore. _I should probably stop talking to myself. _

"Yeah, you should, you creep." Kristoff glanced up at the girl in front of him. Short. Freckles. Blue eyes. Like, super blue. Bangs. Braids. Ugly green dress. Ginger. "Ugly green dress? _Ginger_? Are you kidding?"

"Uh, sorry?" Kristoff said defensively, narrowing his eyes. He stood up to show his superiority (or height) over the girl standing in the doorway. "What's your problem?"

"Excuse me, what's _yours?_ You've been shouting sooooo loudly for like ten minutes and it's like super late, not the mention you just insulted me!" She said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe.

"It's 7:39."

"Yeah, well, sorry I like to sleep!" she said, blushing and clenching her fists angrily. "Just stop yelling, okay? You're probably like killing everyone's ears with that obnoxious voice of yours!"

_WOW. RUDE._

"Hey, it's not like I _like_ yelling out here! My dog won't open my door," Kristoff said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, slamming his hand against his door.

She walked towards him and poked him in the chest. He of course stood his ground, but was very much caught off guard by such a small _creature_ having so much ferocity. "Your dog shouldn't have to open your door for you. Get your keys out. Get inside. And _stop. Yelling_."

She turned around curtly and stomped back into her own apartment, slamming her door.

"Yeah, well... stop slamming stuff! _Ginger!_" Kristoff yelled back at the closed door.

"STILL YELLING!"

"SO ARE YOU!"

Silence.

Hmph.

He won that one.

Just then, he heard a creak behind him. A guilty dog was pulling a cloth attached to his door handle towards himself, opening the door.

"Took you long enough. The devil just moved in across from us."

"I CAN HEAR YOU!"

"I'M GLAD!"

* * *

><p><strong>yepP. Review! Follow! Favorite! Whatever your heart desires! All of the chapters are probably going to be fairly short just because it's all I'm capable of ._. SORRY LOVE U BYE<strong>


	2. Coffee

Kristoff was a routine person. He woke up, got dressed, fed Sven, fed himself, then left for the rink. On Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays he drove the Zamboni and patrolled free skates. On Fridays and Saturdays he hung around stick and puck sessions and refereed some games. Sunday mornings were dedicated to sleeping in. It wasn't the high life, but he sure didn't mind. In fact, he preferred it that way. All he really enjoyed was an ice cold beer, a game going, and the company of his dog.

Kristoff was a routine person.

And this morning was not part of his routine.

There was a knock at his door.

No one knocked at his door just _because_. As much as he would deny it, he was the weird 24 year-old loner in his building. Family didn't stop by much. He wasn't good at making friends and didn't need them anyway. He liked carrot soup, mittens, and had a weird obsession with all things Christmas, even in the middle of July.

Kristoff did not receive visitors.

So why did he have one right now?

Not to mention it was Sunday and he was sleeping in. The burly man rolled over on his couch and groped for his phone to check the time. The dim light of the outdated phone read 1:00 sharp. He might as well get up anyway. The knocking turned into a pounding.

"I'm coming!" Jeez.

Kristoff heaved himself up with a deep sigh and walked the short distance to his door. After pulling it open, he completely regretted it.

Standing in front of him was the devil he met last night.

"Morning."

He didn't know how to reply. He should probably start with, 'morning', then 'why are you here', and afterwards maybe 'leave'.

He settled with, "It's afternoon."

Smooth.

"Coffee."

Her hair stuck up in random places and she looked like a lion that was having a bad hair day. The shoulder of her long-sleeve pajama shirt was sliding off and her bunny slippers were on the wrong feet. The girl's eyes were shut and her mouth was falling into a frown; in one of her hands was a coffee mug.

"Coffee."

He was confused. "Coffee?"

"Oh my gosh, I've already asked like a hundred times," she said in annoyance, cocking her head to the side. Suddenly her eyes shot open, revealing two ocean-like saucers, and she thrust the coffee mug into his broad chest.

Kristoff looked at her with disdain. Who in their right might would let the devil in their home? _No one._

"No one? What are you talking about?" the ginger asked in confusion. She lifted a brow and twisted her lips.

"Leave. I'm not a Satan-worshipper." Kristoff pushed her mug away from him and began closing the door, but she kicked it back open with an angry huff, letting herself in. "Get out, demon. You're not welcome."

"I'm getting my coffee right now," she declared, and stomped into _his _apartment, found _his _kitchen, and replaced _his _coffee mug with _hers_. She pressed a button and the familiar sound of brewing coffee could be heard.

"Why are you in my apartment?" Kristoff demanded to know after a moment of shock, slamming his door. He marched right over to the still unnamed girl and nearly toppled over her with his force.

"Either you could've made me this cup," she said aimlessly, her head in her hand, tracing a finger along the counter, "or I was gonna make it myself. You wouldn't, so I did."

"Don't you have an operating coffee maker in your own room?"

"I moved in yesterday."

_Smooth._

"Really smooth." The girl's mouth went into a tight line and she looked Kristoff up and down. "You wouldn't mind helping a girl unpack, with all those muscles and stuff?"

Now was probably the worst time to realize he wasn't wearing a shirt.

His face went bright red and he started doing that rambling thing he did when he got nervous.

"I, see, well, you have a shirt on, and I uh, I don't! I, ah, most guys don't? When they sleep at least. I mean, not that I would know, because I don't, well I do but I don't. I'm just kind of guessing because it feels kind of natural. But not natural as in like 'I'm a bear, I follow my instincts and eat a lot of food to store up for winter and then I sleep for a really long time and I don't even know if I'm going to wake up' y'know? Wait, not that bears need clothes anyway, becau-"

"What's your name anyway?"

He was silent. _Was this a trick question?_

"No, it's not," she said with a sigh. "I'm Anna. Spelled with an 'A', said like an 'O'."

"I'm Kristoff. Spelled with a 'K'. There's no 'er'."

Anna smiled.

"Now that we're acquainted," she said as she walked back to the door, coffee mug in hand, "I expect to see you in about one hour to unpack my apartment. Thank you for the coffee."

And then she slipped back into her apartment and he barely heard it creek shut.

Sven, with his horrible timing that was starting to become a habit, ambled over and nudged his owner's leg for a snack.

"Hey buddy," Kristoff said, scratching the top of his head. "Satan invited me over to help redecorate hell."

* * *

><p>All of italics mean Kristoff is talking to himself. Sorry it took a while! February is busier than I thought. I planned this for last weekend but I forgot lol thank jesus for snow days amirite or amirite<p>

i encourage people to pm me just to talk or ask if im still alive! if someone wants to beta me that is so chillaxin but im not on the lookout.


	3. Redecorating

Hello, boo back at it again! Sorry I'm always late and terrible at this whole thing, and that I'm probably not going to satisfy your huge hearts with this meager chapter – prepare, I have a plan for next one though! Bear with me friends.

* * *

><p>52 minutes later, Kristoff paced back and forth across his small apartment for three minutes, contemplating whether or not it was actually worth it to help the girl unpack.<p>

"Sven, help me out here buddy," he said and stopped pacing to squat down in front of the dog, holding his face barely an inch away from his own. "This is a life or death situation."

Sven looked straight into his soul with puppy dog eyes.

"Well if you wanted me to do it, you could have just said so," replied the human with a sigh. Kristoff got up and pat Sven on the head. "Sometimes I really hate you."

He slumped into his bedroom and picked out a blue long-sleeve shirt and grey sweatpants to wear, all while grumbling about having to help Anna.

_I mean, I don't _have _to. This isn't a day off if I have to actually do something for someone. _He looked over to his hound who ambled in after him, grinning goofily. "Don't give me that face. I don't have to go if I don't want to."

Sven bolted out of the room.

With another sigh, he pulled his shirt over his chest and headed to Anna's apartment. Standing in front of the door, he again had to make the decision if he should really do this. _There's no point. _He scratched the back of his neck and looked down at his feet, twisting his mouth up. _It wouldn't hurt though…_

And so he knocked.

…and knocked again.

And six times after that.

"Wooooooow," he said slowly, whistling low, "Good call, Sven."

Just as he turned curtly on his heels, he heard a creak behind him.

"Hi, sorry, sorry!" a voice came. "Just cleaning up a bit." Suddenly the door was swung wide open by Anna in a huge, bright pink sweater and leggings, arms spread in an inviting manner.

Kristoff turned back and rested his hands in the pockets of his pants awkwardly, his mouth a tight line. "Cool."

Silence.

"Am I allowed to come in, or…"

"Oh!" The girl's hands, still outstretched, rushed up to cradle her cheeks. "Right, sorry. Come on in."

Kristoff stepped in the doorway after her and looked around, closing the door behind him. He was expecting to see brown boxes and a messy floor, but the squalor of the room was much worse than he could have imagined. Boxes, both big and small, full and empty, were stacked on top of each other in every corner of the room, barely managing to balance. The floor was covered with plastic wrapping and tissue paper. In the dead center of the room was a huge couch with fancy details on it and fluffy pillows. Sitting before the couch was a glass coffee table and a flat screen TV, resting against the wall. To his right he saw the kitchen. He could barely see the counter due to all of the cups and mugs that covered it, all with different designs. At the far end of the room were two tall windows, identical to the ones in his own room. Except his windows had curtains.

…that were on properly.

"Well, this is the place!" she said with a smile, turning around to face Kristoff.

"You were cleaning before I came in?"

She deadpanned. "You're here to help, not insult."

"Right…" the man said, taking another step into the room. _Looks like a tornado went through here like twelve times._

"Excuse me? What did I just say?" Anna asked, placing her hands on both of her hips. "If you didn't want to help, you didn't have to come."

"I was thinking that same thing," he mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing. You actually demanded I come here by saying, 'I expect to see you in an hour'," Kristoff said as if it was obvious. "So here I am."

"I never-" Anna began, squinting her eyes. Realization made its way over her features and she tutted, rolling her eyes and pointing to a stack of boxes behind her. "I need the one on the bottom, but I can't get to it without dropping anything on the top. Get moving."

Sass.

Kristoff made his way over to the boxes. On the top was a medium-sized one, which he could easily bring down. Following it were several small ones, which he handed to Anna beside him, who carefully placed them on the ground, patting them to make sure they were safe.

"Just how much stuff do you have?" he asked to fill the silence.

"I don't know," she replied in a small voice, looking down at the boxes by her feet.

"Mm."

Kristoff reached the bottom box without even breaking a sweat, and looked over at Anna. "Can I get something to open this?"

She nodded and walked over and picked up a box-cutter from the coffee table. She handed it to him and he proceeded to cut the tape on the box.

"Be careful, okay? It's stuffed, so don't cut anything with that thing." She cautioned. He looked up at her from his kneeling position by the box with an annoyed expression.

"I can cut a box just fine."

She rolled her eyes with a sigh, ran her hands over her messy bun, and walked over to the TV by the wall, gesturing to it. "They're cords. Don't cut them."

Kristoff sliced the tape on the box and noticed the bulge of it, indicating its very full capacity. Then he ran into something that was creating most of the bulge. It was surprisingly soft and the knife ran through it easily. When he was finished, he opened it up and revealed its contents.

Lying on the top was a stuffed doll donning a deep blue dress and blonde hair so pale, it was almost white.

Unfortunately the doll now had a clean cut through its stomach.

_Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit…._

"What?" Anna asked and walked back over to Kristoff. "You didn't cut it, did y-"

Kristoff dropped the knife and looked up at her, grabbing both pieces of the doll in his hands. "I didn't mean to! You didn't tell me there was gonna be a doll in here!"

Anna was quiet and her blue eyes went wide. She grabbed the doll from him and stared at it, her eyes getting glossy. "I didn't either," she mumbled.

"What?"

"Look what you did!" she yelled suddenly, fisting the remains of the doll. "You literally _sliced it!_"

"I didn't know!"

"I said be careful! Careful means careful! I don't care if you knew it was in there or not!"

"Yeah, well I would have been more careful if I knew something soft and.." he moved his hands together exasperatedly looking for the word, "_cuttable_ would be in there!"

"_CAREFUL MEANS CAREFUL!_"

"You didn't tell me!"

"I didn't know it was there either!"

"It was ugly anyway and I did you a favor!" Kristoff yelled back loudly, standing up. He received no response and crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. Her face was downcast. "Oh, come on, get over yourself."

"Get out."

"What?"

Anna looked up; face red and eyes filling with tears. She stomped and pointed at the door. "I said, get out," she repeated with a heavy breath.

Kristoff just started at her in shock for a second. First she was yelling, and now she was about to cry, and he was actually feeling _bad_. He would never tell her that though, because it was her fault for not informing him just how _careful _he should have been.

"Fine. I'm leaving." He said curtly, walking swiftly to the door and slamming it behind him.

He chose to ignore the obvious sobs he heard when he closed his apartment door behind him.

* * *

><p>Ehh? EEEEHHH? Kind of sudden and dramatic and this might be a decision I'm regretting but I hope you enjoy! Please tell me if this was like too cliché for you because it seems like it and I didn't want it to be<p> 


End file.
